Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery, #Medieval Ireland

Master of Souls (42 page)

‘You mean that man you imprisoned here, Olcán, was one of Uaman’s men?’

‘Even if it were so,’ smiled the Venerable Mac Faosma sceptically, ‘you have heard that Uaman would have no chance at all of being regarded as ruler. He might force himself upon the Uí Fidgente as their chief by force of arms but then he would split his people — there would be warfare. The Uí Chonaill Gabra would appeal to the Brehons. They would appeal to Cashel. Cashel would intervene with the support of the High King because the law is clear. Blood feuds would rip the Uí Fidgente asunder … parties of avengers would rule the country by fear. We could not have someone unqualified by law force his rule upon us. I freely confess that I was a supporter of Eoganan and all he stood for. I believe that the rule of the Eoghanacht of Cashel is unjust. But I believe in the rule of the law and not of the sword. I would condemn Uaman, if he usurped the power of the Uí Fidgente. Only a ruler qualified by law can take Donennach’s power from him.’

Slébéne was smiling cynically.

‘As you all well know, I am chief of the Corco Duibhne and it is against my eastern borders, the valley passes, where Uaman the Leper has been seen. Many times have I sought to confront him and he has outwitted me. Now, there sits Conrí, warlord of the Uí Fidgente. I give him this invitation. Bring those men that are loyal to him and his lord, Donennach, and come into the passes of Sliabh Mis and together we will hunt this leper down.’

He sat down and there was a murmur of applause.

Conrí was about to rise to accept the challenge when Fidelma motioned him to remain seated. She had been standing with a whimsical smile on her features at Slébéne’s suggestion.

‘Well said, Slébéne, well said,’ she applauded, but they could hear the cynicism in her voice. ‘But I think you know as well as I do that Uaman the Leper will not be found in the passes of Sliabh Mis. Chasing shadows in the passes of Sliabh Mis would merely take Conrí and his men away from the area where the rebellion against Donennach would occur, wouldn’t it?’

Her quiet tone held their attention and for a moment there was total silence.

‘What do you mean, Sister Fidelma?’ Abbot Erc finally demanded.

‘The stories that you heard in the month before the Nativity were true. Uaman, son of Eoganan, was dragged into the quicksand surrounding his own island fortress. Eadulf here was a witness to his death.’

The silence continued as Abbot Erc remained staring at her with a puzzled frown.

‘Then what are we discussing? With Uaman dead as well as his elder brother Torcán, there is no one else of the Uí Choirpre Áedba to claim the chieftainship.’

‘If Uaman is dead,’ called Esumaro, ‘who is this “master” who gave orders to Olcán?’

Fidelma glanced towards the Venerable Mac Faosma.

‘Perhaps you could enlighten us?’ she invited.

As they all turned towards him, the Venerable Mac Faosma leant back and stared at her with growing astonishment.

‘Of course! That is why you were examining the genealogy. Eoganán had three children. But surely that doesn’t help us because the third name was removed from the genealogy?’

The librarian had picked up the train of the argument.

‘You told us so yourself,’ Brother Eolas said. ‘Something had been cut from the page of the genealogy. Was it the name of the third son of Eoganan?’

‘It was the name of Eoganán’s third child. The one who now means to overthrow Donennach and claim the rulership of the Uí Fidgente.’

A whisper of surprise spread like a tide around the oratory with people looking at one another in surprise.

‘I said,’ Fidelma told them, ‘that there were many strands that had to be unravelled. I have given you the motive for the events that have happened here. I have told you who was behind it but have not yet identified that person. So let us now turn to this strand of identity, bearing in
mind what I have said about the ambitions of the sons of Eoganan and the fact that he had three offspring and not two …’

‘One thing, lady,’ Esumaro called out. ‘Was my ship wrecked by accident or design?’

‘It was wrecked by opportunity. Olcán and his men seized the chance to wreck your ship when they saw it trying to weather the island. They were there awaiting the arrival of Abbess Faife and her companions. They saw a rich merchantman and decided, on the spur of the moment, to gather some extra booty. Olcán, as many of you may know …’ she let her glance linger slightly on the white immobile features of Sister Sinnchéne, ‘was one of Uaman’s commanders when he was alive. Now Olcán changed his allegiance to Eoganán’s other child. He had received instructions to go to the island and wait by the ruins of Uaman’s fortress. He knew that his new master badly needed money to pay mercenaries to help them overthrow Donennach. He had been told that Abbess Faife and her companions would be passing by on a certain day at a certain time. Olcán’s orders were to capture the sisters unharmed. However, it did not matter about the abbess. It was her companions who were needed for they had important skills.’

Sister Easdan was animated.

‘The precious stones. Olcán and his people were mining the crystals but needed experts to cut and polish them so they could sell them to raise money for their cause. That is why they were not bothered about killing poor Abbess Faife. That’s why they took us to Seanach’s Island where the hermits were forced to dig the crystal and we were forced to polish it.’

‘Exactly so,’ confirmed Fidelma approvingly.

‘But what of my crew, my ship?’ demanded Esumaro angrily. ‘What had they to do with anything?’

‘As I have said, you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘Olcán must have seen your ship being driven into the bay in the bad weather. He thought it was a godsend to his master. Who knows what goods might be aboard? Olcán was a perverse and evil man. He strung up the light to misdirect you on to the rocks and …’ She shrugged. ‘He stored the goods in the ruined fortress to await a more suitable time to bring his warship around the coast from Seanach’s Island to pick it up. But you survived, Esumaro. You were the only survivor. You brought us a particular piece of important information that helped me reconstruct the story.’

‘What was that?’ demanded the seaman.

‘You heard Olcán telling his men about the rendezvous with the abbess and her companions, showing that he had been informed precisely when they would be passing along that road. In trying to escape from Olcán and his robbers in the early hours after the wreck, you fell in with Abbess Faife and nearly shared her fate. Thanks to Sister Easdan there, and more than a little luck, you survived.’

She had their complete attention now. They were leaning forward in their seats, hanging on her every word. Even the Venerable Mac Faosma was sitting attentive and quiet.

‘The precious stones were going to be the real key for raising money to pay an army of mercenaries, warriors from the north, the Uí Maine and Uí Briúin Aí, the sort of scum that Olcán was leading, to help overthrow Donennach.’

She paused and looked towards Sister Easdan.

‘Now, one thing especially interested me. This abbey was certainly known for producing polished stones and jewellery. For having expert
lec-garaid
or stone polishers. But Abbot Erc did not like individuals to be named. He wanted the abbey to have the reputation but did not want to encourage individuals to share it because of vanity. So who identified the six workers who went off with Abbess Faife on the annual pilgrimage to Bréanainn’s? I found that the pilgrims comprised different groups each year. So who told the so-called “master”, and thereby Olcán, who they were and that they would be passing along that road on that particular day?’

She paused as she studied their upturned expectant faces.

‘Only someone from inside the abbey could have had such information.’

It was the steward Brother Cú Mara who articulated the conclusion. ‘Are you saying that someone here connived in the murder of their own abbess and the abduction of six of our members?’ he demanded.

‘Who?’ demanded Abbot Erc. His features had grown less aggressive.

‘Who else but Eoganán’s third child, the so-called “master” who, having been fostered by Slébéne of the Corco Duibhne, then came to dwell in this abbey. When Uaman was killed they realised they might legitimately claim the chiefship of the Uí Fidgente but it needed an army, and an army needed money.’

Slébéne had turned pale, his eyes flashing with anger.

Conrí was on his feet, slowly moving towards him.

‘Name the man, Fidelma,’ he instructed, hand on the hilt of his sword.

‘Did I say that this “master” was a man?’ Fidelma let her eyes roam the upturned faces before her. Then she said: ‘Stand forth, Uallach, daughter of Eoganán.’

‘Uallach!’ Conrí suddenly swung his gaze on Sister Uallann, the abbey physician. He thought that the name was familiar. She was fiercely supportive of the deposed Uí Fidgente chieftain, against the peace with Cashel, and admitted that she had been raised among the Corco Duibhne. Of course, it made sense. The physician did not move, her pale eyes fixed on Fidelma.

‘Not Uallann,’ Fidelma said softly. ‘Someone trying to hide their true name would not choose another so close to it.’

It was then that Conr

realised that Fidelma was looking directly at Sister Buan.

‘Stand up, Uallach. You do not have to deny it,’ she instructed quietly. Sister Buan rose slowly to her feet. Her face was contorted with a mixture of emotions.

‘You consider that you are very clever, Fidelma of Cashel. My regret is that I failed in both my attempts to kill you. That was remiss of me.’

There was a gasp from the assembly.

‘For my part, Uallach, I am grateful that you did not succeed,’ Fidelma replied calmly.

Abbot Erc was regarding them both with utter bewilderment on his features.

‘I think we deserve some explanation, Sister Fidelma. I have no idea of how you can make this accusation. We have known Sister Buan for many years. She has been trusted with trading for this abbey. She was … she was the Venerable Cináed’s companion and he would hardly support the aspirations of a child of Eoganán!’

‘I shall show that the person you knew as Sister Buan was, in reality, Uallach, daughter of the late ruler of the Uí Fidgente, sister to Uaman the Leper. It was Buan who arranged for the abduction of the six gem polishers from this abbey. Buan was one of the few people in the abbey who had the freedom to move about the country in her position of trader. Olcán and his men worked for her. Because she was in many ways like Uaman, her brother, she donned a robe and people thought she was Uaman still alive. She was responsible for the death of the Abbess Faife and what
followed on Seanach’s Island. She also killed her husband, the Venerable Cinaed, when he began to suspect her, and she was the person who killed Olcán when she thought he would betray her.

‘Only Olcán knew that Uaman was not the “master”. He told me so on the night before Buan, whom he trusted, murdered him …’

The murmur erupted into a chorus of angry voices.

Abbot Erc had to raise his voice to make himself heard.

‘You will have to prove these accusations,’ he said, still filled with doubt.

‘Oh, indeed, I shall. I shall take you through it with each piece of evidence.’

Conr

had nearly reached Slébéne but the chief of the Corco Duibhne was on his feet.